JohnDave A-Z
by melancholyMisfit
Summary: A series of JohnDave one-shots from A to Z varying in rating and theme. Updates whenever.
1. Apartment

Let the A-Z JohnDave begin! I actually just really want to write some JohnDave right now…I was looking through one of my favorite artist's albums and a majority of what she draws is this ship. I'm warning you though, she is the only reason I like shota John so…just…heads up. And by shota I mean, short and skinny. Two things Dave likes to take advantage of. He will still be the smart ass pranking jerk face I love. I wouldn't want him any other way.

Once again, these will vary in rating!

Apartment

Moving into an apartment with someone you hardly know kind of really sucks. You don't know their sleeping, eating or cleaning habits. You don't know if they're into drugs, drinking, partying until four in the morning when you have school or work the next day. Normally when you move in with someone it's because you get along well and want to live with them. Not because your dad, or in his case brother, force you out of the house and into an apartment together. You had met him maybe once when you were kids. He was blonde, always wore sunglasses just like his big brother, and clung to his side the entire time. You were around six at the time you believe. You were kind of looking forward to having another kid to play with for a few hours but when you tried to interact with him he buried his face into his brother's side and ignored you. The adults tried to get him to play but he refused.

You didn't see him again until you were thirteen. He'd gone to a different school until he was kicked out for fighting. You were kind of shocked when you heard this seeing as he was such a shy kid. He was in your home room. He still had those lame pointed glasses and didn't talk to anyone. He just sat in his desk scribbling in his notebook not even bothering to look up at anyone. Everyone thought he was a tool. You thought he was a tool. He'd show up late and leave the second the bell rang. When you saw him at lunch he was always sitting alone and very rarely had food with him. He'd just sit in a corner sipping on apple juice and listening to music.

When you were in the eighth grade both schools came together for a 'this is who you're going to high school with' meet and greet. A majority of kids from both schools all meshed into one high school so it was an annual affair. It was held in the gym of your school where they pushed back the bleachers and put out tables of watery juice and gross cookies. He'd waited by the door as the other school began filtering into the gymnasium. When a girl as blonde as him entered the room he'd gone immediately to her side and didn't leave her for the rest of the afternoon. You briefly wondered if they were dating but thought it would be too weird since they looked like siblings. She kept dragging him to different groups of people where he'd stand awkwardly to the side while she socialized.

Your cousin Jade went to the other school and found you the second she arrived. She introduced you to a few people and picked on your friend Karkat for a while. She kept going on and on about how much you'd like her friend Rose. As it turns out Rose was the girl he'd attached himself to. She was actually very nice and funny and didn't seem to be offended by your jokes. You tended to come off as a jerk sometimes and it was rare to find someone who you didn't piss off. He didn't speak much, only answering when Rose spoke directly to him. You were kind of shocked at how deep his voice was. It occurred to you that you'd never really heard him speak before then. He usually communicated in grunts and nods of the head. You tried engaging him in conversation a few times but he just wouldn't take the bait.

The fall of your junior year in high school he came back from summer break standing at six feet and no longer looking like the young boy he had before. It was weird the way you couldn't look away from him. Every time you saw him in the halls your heart rate sped up and you found it suddenly hard to breathe. On more than one occasion you had a dream about him and woke up sweaty and just a little sticky. You'd passed too close to him in the hall once and gotten a whiff of him. You'd had to sit in the bathroom until you calmed down completely. This wasn't right. You were straight and had a girlfriend. You should be having wet dreams about her not the boy you hadn't exchanged two words with since you were six.

On his seventeenth birthday your dad forced you to go to his house for a small dinner party. His brother teased you because you were still as short as you were when you were fourteen. Rose and Jade were there but you didn't see him anywhere. You later found out that he had locked himself in his room when he'd been told you were coming to the party. You were pretty offended by that. They had coaxed him out later with promises of apple juice. He ignored you for the rest of the night and you'd convinced your dad to let you leave early. You left your gift with Rose with a note attached that read "to replace those lame pointed anime shades. Seriously dude, do you ever take those things off?"

The next time you saw him at school he came in sporting the aviators you'd given him. For the first time he acknowledged you in the hall. It was only a barely noticeable nod but it was there and it went straight to your heart making it jump to your throat. Rose began to sense something was wrong and forced you into one of her sessions to talk it over.

"Ok John, what's wrong?" She'd asked, pen and notebook in hand.

"I really don't want to talk about this. Especially not with you."

"Why is that?"

"Because you'll give me that 'I totally knew it' bullshit and try to fix everything."

"And if I promise that I won't do that?"

"Can I get it in writing?"

She actually wrote it out on a piece of paper from her notebook and signed it with a neat "RL" before handing it to you. "Now, what seems to be bothering you?"

You sighed. "So, I'm straight right? I've been dating Vriska for about three months now. She's pretty cool. Bossy. We get into it a lot. But there's this guy and every time I see him I just want to shove my face into a pillow. Like, a guy is giving me these feelings? This isn't right. I fantasize about kissing him more than I actually kiss Vriska and don't even get me started on the dreams."

She jotted something down in her notebook before mumbling a "go on".

"I've never been attracted to a guy before. Not even this guy. It just happened at the start of this year. And ok, maybe I do have a crush on Dave but the guy won't even talk to me!"

"Dave?"

"What?"

"You said Dave."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"Shit. Rose you signed the paper!"

She merely chuckled before prodding you for more information. You told her everything. About meeting when you were six, noticing his habits at school, when you realized you liked him, when you had the first dream, and how you'd nearly passed out when he began wearing the gift you gave him. She'd kept her promise and even let you watch as she burned the pages she'd written about it. She never brought it up again, Dave never found out about your crush, and you continued to pine from afar. You ended up breaking it off with Vriska after talking with Rose. She convinced you that it wasn't right to string her along when she wasn't the one you cared for.

When you graduated high school you were sure you'd never see him again. You were very wrong. Your dad came to you one day shortly after turning nineteen saying that if you weren't living in a dorm you had to find an apartment. You couldn't afford an apartment without a roommate but he'd said not to worry because he knew "just the lad".

You weren't told the name of your new roommate until the day you showed up to check out the apartment. Once again you were face to face with Dave Strider, the object of your affection for nearly three years. This time he didn't cling to his brother's side. He wandered through the apartment and checked things out while the adults talked. You didn't even need to discuss rooms as you both quietly agreed on the setup. On move in day you were left alone with him after everything had been set up. You had never been alone with him. It was increasingly awkward. You tried to stay in your room but eventually you finished unpacking and had to tackle the rest of the apartment. When you entered the kitchen he was already there putting away dishes. You stood awkwardly in the doorway for several minutes.

"Do you need any help?" You asked the first exchanged words in about six years.

He stopped what he was doing and just stared. He didn't even open his mouth. You couldn't see his eyes behind the very same aviators you'd given him for his seventeenth birthday. He didn't move, the glass he'd been putting away still in his hand. If someone walked in right then and asked you what was happening you honestly could not give them an answer. Despite every part of your being fighting it you found yourself getting hurt and pretty damn angry.

"You know you can talk to me. I don't know what your problem is. Do you hate me or something? Did I do something when we were six to piss you off that I just don't remember? Cause you're kind of being a dick. Every time I try to talk to you I get shot down like I have the fucking plague or something and coming into contact with me will infect you too."

His eyebrows shot up so high you could see them above his glasses. He set the glass down on the counter and shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat. "I don't hate you dude I'm just…not very talkative."

"Yea that's what Rose said. I figured she was just making excuses for you though."

"You talked to Rose about me?"

He didn't sound angry. Just shocked. Maybe you shouldn't have said anything. "Sort of. I wasn't saying anything bad about you. I just…wanted to talk to you."

"Why didn't you?"

"You're kidding right? I just told you that I tried. Everyone thought you were some douche who thought he was too cool to associate with us."

He cracked a smile and held in a laugh. "Yea that's me. Mr. Cool Guy."

"Don't laugh! It wasn't just me."

"Why did you want to talk to me anyway? You kind of came off as…a jerk."

"Gee thanks." You mumble. "I don't know I just…"

"Just what?"

"Fuck it's not something that's easy to say. I don't even want to say it. Its day one and I'm going to make things as awkward as possible? Great job John. Just shut your fucking mouth and hide in your room for the next three years."

He just stared, waiting for you to calm down from you little tantrum. "Ok let's say you like someone and you shouldn't like them. Cause it's weird, right? You're supposed to like girls. No, you DO like girls. But for some reason you like this guy too. Not all guys. Just this one particular guy. What are you even supposed to do? You can just waltz up and say hi. Especially when every other socialization attempt was avoided immediately!"

He was silent for a moment, as if trying to process everything he'd just heard. When he did speak he didn't sound like the same Dave at all. Granted John didn't know him that well but there was something different about his voice. Lighter, maybe happier.

"So, you too?" He asked, completely serious despite the smile pulling the sides of his mouth. "Who do you like?"

"That's the thing, I can't even say that I like him because I hardly know you! Him. I hardly know him. Oh for fucks sake wipe that grin off your face."

"I'm sorry I've just never gotten such a weird love confession before."

"I don't love you! And who said I was talking about you?"

"Dude your cheeks are bright red and we were talking about why you wanted to get to know me so bad before you went off on this liking guys thing."

"I don't like guys."

"Right, just me."

"For someone who never talks you're turning out to be a cocky prick!"

"Is that a turn off?"

Fuck. No. It wasn't. The way he was slowly sauntering towards you, hands in pockets, slightly leaned forward to match your height, eyes visible behind lowered glasses and cocky smirk gracing this perfect lips, that was possibly the farthest thing from a turn off. His over confident teasing was sending all kinds of chills and shivers all over your body and you wanted nothing more than to grab him and kiss him like your life depended on it. You didn't though. How lame would that be? Losing your cool like that. And come on John, you barely even know this guy! Just because you've known him since you were six doesn't mean you _know_ him.

"Who says I'm turned on to start with?" No, ok, that was a stupid thing to say. But witty comebacks are kind of hard to come by at the moment.

He laughed, a real laugh, not a scoff or an amused chuckle. It was a nice sound though it only succeeded in deepening your frown. "Oh my God why are you so cute?" He asked.

"Don't call another guy cute!"

"Why not?" Dave was right up in front of you now, no longer leaning down but towering over you instead. His hand came down on top of your head to ruffle your hair messily. You slapped his hand away and glared up at him, standing on your toes to appear more menacingly close.

"Because."

"Just because?"

"Just because."

"Even if it's true?"

"Even if it's true, which it isn't."

"You're just so short."

"I'm not short you're just freakishly tall!"

In a quick, swift movement Dave wrapped his arms around your waist and scooped you up into his arms. "Shit, how much do you weigh? Ninety pounds?"

"Put me down or I'll kick you in the dick."

"Jeez calm down. I've always wanted to pick you up like this."

"Seriously? So while I was being tormented with sexy dreams you were just daydreaming up picking me up?"

"Wait, what sexy dreams?"

"Answer the question."

"I was, or am I guess, a teenage boy. Do you honestly think I wasn't dreaming about boning the guy I had a crush on?"

"This just got a million times more awkward. Put me down."

He did, sort of. He set you on the counter, placing himself between your legs but not touching you. His hands rested on the counter besides your thighs, his head hung.

"Alright Egbert, tell me honestly. Are you actually interested in pursuing something here or are you just living out some one time gay fantasy?"

"Oh my God." You scrub your face with both hands while trying not to knock your glasses off. "I don't even know. I thought it was just this little crush that would never go anywhere. I didn't foresee you coming on to me in my own kitchen."

"Our kitchen." He corrected with a smirk.

"Whatever. We're just going to have to roll with it and see what happens I guess."

He considered this for a moment, the smile finally leaving his lips. He stepped closer, his hands finding your hips. "Ok. Deal." He leaned forward and placed a quick, awkward, glasses clacking kiss to your lips. "Should I not do that?"

"No. You should definitely do that more." He didn't need a second invitation as both pairs of glasses were pushed away and lips met together.

You were pretty pissed about having to room with the guy that you hardly knew and harbored a pretty strong crush for. But if this was how things were going to be maybe living with him would be alright.

That just completely got away from me. I don't even know for sure if I like it? It was just refreshing writing these boys after all that GamTav. I may have gone overboard. That was definitely not the turn of events I was anticipating but I don't feel like rewriting it.


	2. Birthday

I was struggling to decide what to do for B…and it's 4/13 so…yea…yea? Also the age is just…random I guess.

[Obligatory break between A/N and story]

Birthday

Your name is John Egbert and boy are you exhausted. Today, the 13th of April, is your twenty-second birthday. As promised you and your boyfriend went to your father's house for dinner. Initially the dinner had been ok. He'd made your favorite meal and kept his teasing of Dave down to a minimum. He liked to grill him on his job prospects and if he was planning on marrying his "one and only precious son". You'd actually had a nice chat with the both of them. It was a peaceful night. Of course you always dreaded what came after your birthday dinner. Cake. Dave ate a big slice and happily accepted the remainder of the cake to take home. Your dad set a slice of the sickly confectionary in front of you but you refused to touch it. It was an annual game you played with him. You told him you didn't want cake, he'd cut a slice for you anyway, you'd turn up your nose and eventually give in and eat at least half of it to please your dad.

With dinner and presents behind you all you wanted to do was sleep. You'd hopped in the shower needing to get the sweet smell of cake off of your clothing. Now in warm pajamas and hair mostly dried you were ready to put yet another birthday behind you. After you drag your human body pillow to bed with you that is. You find him in the kitchen, cake in front of him, fork in hand and icing on his lips.

"Really Dave?" You ask as you enter the room.

"What?" He responds through a mouth full of cake.

"You're going to make yourself sick if you eat anymore of that."

"I will never get sick from too much cake."

"I don't know how you can eat so much of that stuff. Voluntarily."

"It's delicious, bro. There's just something wrong with your taste buds." He crams another forkful of cake into his mouth and you wrinkle your nose.

"Please tell me you'll brush your teeth before coming to bed."

"Why? Have you got some fun things planned for tonight?" He smirks making himself look goofy with the icing still on his lips.

"No. I'm tired. But that doesn't mean I wasn't planning to give you a goodnight kiss. Which I won't unless you wash that stuff out of your mouth."

"Oh come on." He says, placing the fork on the counter and coming towards you. "You're going to let cake keep us apart?"

"Yes."

His arms come around you to rest on the small of your back as he pulls you against him. He smells sweet like sugar and icing but you don't push him away. You do cross your arms over your chest and look up into uncovered eyes. He'd gotten in the habit of leaving his sunglasses off when at home with you. You didn't like not being able to see into his eyes. He leans down for a kiss but you turn your head quickly enough so his lips land on your cheek feeling slightly sticky. He pulls back and sets his mouth into an exaggerated pout.

"Brush your teeth and you can kiss me all you want."

"If I brush my teeth I won't be able to eat any more of it tonight."

"Is the cake more important than me? Would you like to take it to bed instead?"

He cracks a smile and places a kiss to your forehead. "Depends. Is it as good in bed as you are?"

"Gross Dave. I didn't need those mental images." You close your eyes and try to scrub the thoughts away with your hands pressed to your forehead.

He takes advantage of your lack of site and swoops in for a kiss. You gasp in surprise and his tongue invades your mouth. He tastes like icing but you hardly notice with the way he's maneuvering his tongue against yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and stand on your toes to better reach his lips. Dave manages to move you backward until your back is against the wall. His hands move down to cup your ass as he lifts you so you can wrap your legs around his hips. It was definitely more comfortable to kiss him when you were at the same height. He presses his half hard length against yours and grinds your hips together. You groan into the kiss and tangle your fingers in his short blonde locks.

"I definitely think it'll be more fun to take you to the bedroom. The cake can stay in the kitchen." He grins, breaking the kiss and panting quietly.

You roll your eyes. "I still haven't collected my birthday present from you."

He gives you one last lip bruising kiss before carrying you in the direction of the bedroom with promises of the best birthday present possible.

[Obligatory ending break]

It took me way longer to finish this than I thought it would. Why are they always in the kitchen in my fics? I honestly don't know. They just are. Happy birthday John! Have a nice big slice of Strider ass! Make sure to enjoy it slowly though. Or, ya know, quickly and against a wall. Whatever you prefer sweetie it's your birthday.


	3. Convalesce

_Hey it's been a while. This is my second attempt at writing something for C._

Convalesce

You sniffle and wipe at your nose with the balled up tissue in your hand. Your entire arm shakes right down to your shoulder at the slight movement and you groan. Your name is Dave Strider and you are fucking miserable. Your head hurts, you're congested, you're coughing up phlegm and you're sneezing every ten seconds. To top it all off your entire body hurts and your fever is high enough to make you sweat even with the AC turned up and the fan on full blast pointed at you. It's not doing much besides ruffling your hair around and making the sweat on your forehead turn icy. You groan again as you roll to your side in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure in your head. You feel all the mucus in your nose drain to the nostril pressed against your pillow and start to leak, leaving your other nostril slightly clear. You swipe at your nose again trying to ignore the slight sting from the sore skin rubbed raw from blowing your nose every few minutes.

The door creaks open letting in a stream of light followed by your temporary nurse. He's trying to be quiet as he enters in case you're sleeping but the things on the tray in his hands are clinking around noisily. He uses his foot to close the door and comes to stand at your bedside. You halfheartedly try to swat his hand away when he presses his palm to your forehead. He sighs when he pulls away and you can faintly hear the swish of disgusting cold medicine being poured into the tiny plastic cup.

"Sit up. You need to take your medicine and eat something." He says, holding the cup of vile, thick, sweet liquid in front of your face.

You pull the cover up over your mouth. "I'm not drinking that shit." Your voice comes out weak and scratching. You clear your throat hoping it helps you sound less lame and un-Strider like.

"If you hope to get better any time soon you'd better man up and take your damn medicine. Otherwise this cold is going to continue to kick your ass."

"It's not a cold. Striders don't get colds."

"Bullshit. Stop acting like a child."

He effortlessly yanks the blanket from your hands and hauls you up into a sitting position. You grimace at the medicine that is now being held half an inch from your lips. You can tell by the look on his face that if you don't willingly take it he'll force it down your throat. Normally he wouldn't be able to overpower you but in your current condition he'd win in seconds and he knew it. You snatch the cup out of his hand sloshing a bit of it onto your hand and swallow it down as quickly as you can. Almost on instinct your tongue juts out of your mouth with a disgusted "bluck" sound. To be completely honest you could hardly taste anything with your nose this plugged up.

"Good boy." He teases, patting the top of your sleep mussed hair.

You'd punch him if your arm wasn't so wobbly. You try to flop back against the pillows but he stops you.

"Nope. You've got to eat something with your medicine."

"It hurts to swallow." You definitely did not whine when you said that. And even if you did it was probably meant ironically.

"That's why I brought tomato soup."

"Bleh." You groan in distaste.

"It's this or plain chicken broth. Also known as hot chicken water."

Admittedly tomato soup isn't that bad. It's definitely better than hot chicken water. You grab the spoon from the bowl he's holding up and try to steady your hand long enough to make it to your mouth without spilling. You're mostly successful, the bulk of it spilling off the spoon and back into the bowl. At least you managed to keep the bed and yourself free of soup.

"You're pathetic." He chuckles. Normally you find that toothy grin cute and endearing but right now you want to knock those rabbit teeth right out of his head.

"Shut up or I'll cough on you. I'm sure I'm contagious and I hope you get sick."

He merely laughs at that before feeding you a spoonful of soup. You manage to eat about half the bowl before your throat hurts too badly and swells a bit in protest. Once you're settled back into the pillows again you kick off the blankets and reach to pull the fan closer.

"You're soaked in sweat." He comments.

As if you didn't already know that. Thanks so fucking much for pointing that out Egbert. He ignores the look you're giving him and disappears into the bathroom. A second later you hear the shower turning on. Like hell you're getting up just to lean against the shower wall for ten minutes.

He comes back into the room and pulls you to your feet before you can protest. You all but collapse into his arms, your body feeling boneless and jellylike. He supports your weight with one arm trapping your waist against his side. Your arm is slung across his shoulders with his free hand gripping your wrist. It's almost kind of hot seeing him this strong, almost manly. He doesn't _have to_ take care of you but he _does_ because he _loves_ and you've really got to let that sink in for a minute. Sure you knew that he cared about you but who else would take care of while you're sick? Not even your sister would do this much. She would just hand you a bottle of medicine and quarantine you until a doctor gave you the ok to be around people again. But this boy, your best friend, your boyfriend is willing to risk getting sick just to make sure you feel better. He's the one person you'd let yourself look this weak in front of.

Your head droops down onto his shoulder as he hauls you into the bathroom and toward the running water. You're able to strip yourself though that doesn't stop him from helping anyway. Once you're in the stream of hot water you're instantly grateful for it. The heat is easing the ache in your muscles, the steam is clearing your sinuses and you no longer feel heavy with sweat as the water washes it all away. You're able to wash up without shaking too awfully bad and don't need as much help getting out of the shower and back to bed. You use his shoulder to steady yourself as you change into fresh pajamas and discover that he changed the sheets while you were showering. With your fever broken you're not nearly as hot and sweaty as you had been and are able to get comfortable under the blankets. He perches on the edge of the bed and places his palm to your forehead again. This time you don't swat him away.

"Much better. Try to get some sleep and I'll check on you in an hour or so."

You nod and close your eyes all the fight drained out of you. The last thing you feel before dropping off into unconsciousness is his lips against your forehead.

The next day you're able to get out of bed and by the following day you're almost completely better. A few days later he's curled up in bed just as miserable as you'd been. But you're prepared to return the favor and show him just how much you love him. And maybe tease him a little in revenge.

_Why are my endings always crappy or corny? Or both? So I'm sick again and you know how much I love making my babies suffer with me. I feel like if Dave were sick he'd either be really pissy or nonstop bitching but I thought slightly pathetic Dave was better for this particular fic. I also feel like John wouldn't be nearly this sweet or this helpful. I'm sure John would have Rose's take on the whole sick Dave thing and Rose would be the helpful caretaker. Still, whatever works right?_


End file.
